in which the argument is voided by missing the Earthly Plane, TR 2154.

argh my god, i was going mad.
and caring, that was new. adjusting to that is... progressing. sort of. not really. i know, shut up.

and now i'm nervous too.

i have 4.25 hours to finish a brief for work, pack for my trip, vote (for change!), run errands for my trip, get to the airport, and, erm, have one last turn at Green Dragon. hahhahhaa.

shit, what's the size limit for carry-on backpacks again?

there isn't much time left for anything else in between, and i shouldn't be here.

but.

i'm nervous enough not to be able to find a funny thing to compare this nervous energy to. oh my bullet-ridden rabbits in a row, i can't find a funny thing to say about this! it's jitters. it's nails held at a gentle angle, but still ever so frightfully sharp. it's payback for the time i spent AWOL from life, so turn up the intensity to 11 please, mister sandman.

hi, milky ways, 2nd-hand amulets, soft terry towels and andaman sea? it's me again.
can we strike some sort of bargain here?

i'm clever enough, when i've got my wits about me. i bitch and whine about shit i have to do, but my eyes are clear, i can see these things i have to do.

i'm not helpless here. my brainbox beats a dope tune, you know? the thumping thing in my chestbox, yeah it's a little rusty. okay, fine, a lot rusty. fine, fine, fine... certain chambers are practically fresh out of the factory. see? clear eyes. not naive, not helpless.

i'm morbid enough too, that i can be with strange times, borderline unacceptable folks and odd dimes. i can smell it, and embrace it, and just like with a cat i'm slightly allergic to, i know it for what it is. i don't confuse it with Things of the Earthly Plane. i know, this is somewhat unconventional, mighty quick, but there isn't any terrible mischief afoot here. to the best of my judgment, actually, it IS pretty conventional for Folks of the Earthly Plane, and it's only new to me, lady slowpoke.

i'm enough of a stone cold bitch as well that i can stop things moving forward better than a melodramatic heart attack. Korean TV dramas need more bitches, less cancer to move plots forward. just what the doctor ordered! sorry, back from the tangent. yes, stone cold bitch am i. and it's not just bravado, i've done it before.

what all this self-praise (snort) means is,
i'm rather defensively displaying my ability to handle this without you (how can a towel help here? useful when i need to sit on mud, but some critical reasoning skills seems lacking ah.) but i'd like to think the Universe, expressed around me right now as stardust made into ordinary objects, is listening. and will help me help myself.
i'm terrified, ok?

because i can't keep flinching back from this part of life. i'm no scaredy cat. show me my fears, and i try my best to face it. i try to always do the things that scare me. but man, this is more terrifying than the idea of deepwater soloing a 7a route!
(youtube: deepwater solo. is pretty epic non, mon petit?)

wait. not a fair metaphor there, i have a belay here.

maybe instead, i'd deep water solo a 5c this Sunday!
this is not a metaphor anymore, i'm really actually gonna climb a deep water solo in Krabi, and it's SCARY too!!!


postscribe,
me: "how'd you get so sure? i'm freaking out all over the place."
BN: "you smell right."